Are they Really Memories?
by Shico-Bird
Summary: Why am I the only one who can remember him....? But are they really memories, Olette? A Roxette


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I do not own KHII, but I sure as heck wish I did. :)

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The days pass as they usually do, or at least, it should _feel_ normal. She shouldn't be feeling this strange… emptiness in her heart, like they're forgetting someone. She instinctively wants to buy four sea-salt ice creams, but catches herself as it's on the tip of her tongue, and responds with a confused "Three" that earns her an eye roll from the vendor. She walks back to her thr- _two_ favorite men in the world, Pence and Hayner. She smiles at them, and then looks at a small pile of boxes, stacked neatly next to the couch. She feels like there should be someone there, staring with unfocused eyes at his hands, like he was contemplating who he was. She wanted to call a name, but… it wouldn't come. She held back the urge to stomp her foot like a three year old when they are frustrated at their parents, and she just stares at that spot until Hayner's face appears in front of her and says, "Man you're getting more like… like…." And he looks at her confused, and for a moment the same thought passes between them:

_Who are we trying to remember?_

_(Nobody)_

But then it passes and Hayner is back to normal, licks his ice cream and finishes his sentence with, "Your ice cream is melting, Olette." She looks at him, and nothing seems the matter. Is it really only her who can keep this…. this person who should be in her mind? She smiles half heartedly and eats her ice cream, wondering. She looks at the sky, the gold light from the sin reminding her of someone. A memory flashes by her, a short glance of gold hair, eyes that would dull the blue of the summer sky, but now they are gone, and she can't seem to hold them. They are like water. Like

_His eyes_

Cold blue water.

Hayner and Pence are gone now, and she sits and stares at the photographs. She must have studied them a million times, looking at them from all views. Hoping that maybe his face would appear like the ones that appear on holographic cards. Nothing

_No one_

ever does appear. She notices the paper is wet. The rain falls from her eyes. She wipes these away and stares at them, bewildered, as if she's never seen the sea water fall from her eyes before. Sea water… like

_His eyes_

Like what? She couldn't grasp it. So she cried.

He was here a day. That boy with the porcupine hair. They looked so familiar, but the color wasn;t right. No, not brown, they should be

_Fields of gold wheat_

But it just would not come. His eyes, those eyes, so eerily familiar. So… familiar to her. She should know where she's seen them before, but…. She can't, and it makes her more mad than anything. The smile is a little to bright though, it should be softer.

_This is foolish Olette, you've never even met the boy before, or anyone who had hair quite that…. Well, interesting to put it in an under-exaggeration._

But she HAS! She HAS! Why, why would her brain not let her remember?

_You can't remember __something__ someone that was never there now can you?_

So she tried to forget, and it worked, until the boy with the porcupine hair left the next day. She watched him go, neither sad, nor happy, at least, that was how she felt until the doors closed. When those doors shut and cut her view of the eyes so blue they look like they came from the deepest parts of the ocean, she wanted to scream. She wanted to scream, "Don't leave me again!" But… she never met him before. So…. Why did it feel like her heart was splitting, for the second time? This is unreasonable, to overreact to someone

_It's just, those eyes…_

that she's never met before. She walked home, passing their usual hangout-spot as she went. She gave those boxes one last glance, and she finally saw it, a full

_memory_

image of a boy in black and white clothing. His hair was a blinding gold and she just wanted to bury her face in it. His eyes, she was drowning in them, but she didn't mind, she kinda liked this drowning. His small smile, never really happy looking, but she knew he was happy. That's just how he is

_is? No, was._

And she always knew this, that's why she always hugged him so much, to try and make that smile bigger. She saw love in those eyes, and she knew it was for her, and only her, but now

_Poof_

The memory was gone. It lasted only a split second and

_Maybe it was my imagination?_

she wanted to cry because she knew, that was all she was going to get and she didn't even know if it was real. It could have been

_It is real. I know it._

her imagination. No one else remembered this

_image of perfection_

person, so maybe she imagined him. So she finished her journey home. As she fell into sleep that night, a name popped into her head.

_Roxas_

And she fell into the arms of a dream

_Maybe a memory…_

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I was kinda trying to mix in Stephen King's writing style into this story, you would kinda know it if you've read his books. I, however, did his sty,e no justice at aaaaall. haha :) I hope you liked it. :) (Everyone loves a Roxette, right?)


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